The Assassin
by Fiastata
Summary: Vash Zwingli is an expert assassin, trained by the HETA. Will one mission somehow change his life forever? SwissLiech, USUK, GerIta, one-sided SwissAus and eventual PruAus.
1. Introduction

**Hi! This is my first fanfic, so pardon me if it's sorta choppy-ish!**_  
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**This does contain SwizzLiech, USUK, GerIta, and maybe more pairings in case you didn't catch that on the summary...  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia :(**

**The first part is told from Switzy's POV, then moves on to third person I think.  
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**Enjoy!~  
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_VVVvvvvv…_

_My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and unlock the code to access the blinking red message that pops up. It is a new project, in Italy this time. I examine the picture of my next target. Fiery red hair, deep green eyes full of life. He didn't come with a name, but they never did. The MTD (Maximum Time of Death) was 3:00 p.m. I checked my watch, only 1:45 p.m. I had plenty of time._

_Kill all witnesses, the message read._

* * *

Vash cocked his gun as he kicked down the door with his boot and swiftly went into the silent household. In his peripheral vision he noted his surroundings. It was a waterfront home right next to the canal. The house itself was nice, but there was hardly any furniture. The wallpaper looked moldy, and there was dirt tracked all over the place, as well as a significant stench of cigar smoke in the air. The sky thundered, and hard rain pattered on a window somewhere. He went farther into the house, carefully inspecting the few rooms that it beheld for his target.

He stopped short at the door of one room. There was a small bed with a light pink bedspread, but otherwise all the drawers and closets were open and empty. But that wasn't what had gotten his attention. The entire wall, floor to ceiling, was a painted mural. It was rendered with the hand of an expertise. Lush green fields overlooking a clear lake with colorful wildflowers bordering it, with thin trees swaying in an invisible breeze. In the background, beautiful blue snow-capped mountains were framed by a perfect, blue sky. He stared at the painting with disbelief. It looked remarkably like his home…Switzerland.

His ears picked up frantic whisperings at the end of the hall, and he immediately turned away from the painting, starting quickly for the direction of the noise. His heart pounded dully in his ears, quick with the adrenaline rush that he always got when he was on his missions. He ran rapidly down the hall and was immediately faced with a small open window. He jumped, the rain now hard enough to soak his clothes and hair in a second, landing catlike onto a marble balcony.

At the exact moment he jumped, he noticed the blur of another person jumping over the wire railing. He thought for a moment that it was his target, but no, his target was standing 4 feet away from him. He noted dully that there was a petite green-eyed woman with long blonde hair tied in a bun, trembling behind the man's tall figure and clutching the back of his wet shirt tightly. His target was standing protectively in front of her, clutching a silver pistol. The man's hands were shaking but Vash could tell that it wasn't from fear.

The man talked hurriedly, with a very noticeable Scottish accent, but Vash had been trained to tune them out. He lifted his large gun and shot him once, perfectly in the heart. The man collapsed onto the rain-soaked marble as the woman screamed. He shot her too, in the same place, and she fell in a mangled heap next to the man.

Vash trudged through the mixture of blood and rain as he made his way towards the dead man lying face-down on the cold, wet marble, blood pooling under him. Vash kneeled down and reached into the man's back pocket and pulled out the man's wallet, examining its contents. Only a few euros, and Vash quickly tucked them into his parcel. Then he noticed a small picture, worn and bent. It was of three people, the man and the woman holding a baby girl. They were all smiling, some in mid-laughter. Vash realized with a start that he couldn't remember the last time he had smiled, or laughed.

"Lilli…" Vash's eyes shot up towards the woman. She was smiling, her eyes closed and her breath shallow and labored. "Lilli…" she spoke again, and Vash grabbed his handgun and shot her in the head. Vash quickly stood up, and just as he was about to turn around his eyes fell upon the silver pistol still clutched in the man's hand. He reached down and examined it. It really was of pure silver, shining from the now slower rain. There were elaborate carving up and down it's barrel as well as a polished cherrywood handle. It would be a shame to just leave such a fine item to the government, he thought, and he put it inside his parcel. He made his way towards the very edge of the balcony and looked over. White, rushing waters pounded in the canal. He could hear guards pounding the front door of the villa. It was too late to exit from the house now. He took in a deep breath and jumped.

* * *

1 hour later, Vash Zwingli made his way towards headquarters. He had gotten a shower and a new uniform in the plane ride back to account for his soaked, ruined one. That was one of the few perks of his job. If he messed up his suit, they just gave him a new one. No need to pay for dry cleaning.

He knocked three times before entering his boss's office. His boss, Mr. Arthur Kirkland, was rather strict about knocking. Vash had a co-worker, Alfred, who had a habit of never knocking and it drove Arthur insane.

Vash entered his boss's office, always to be met with the same smells: Earl Gray tea, burnt food and just a hint of gin. The Englishman was sitting at his desk, legs crossed, reading a large book about fairy tales (he had a thing for them and cursed anyone who teased him about it). "Good evening, Mr. Zwingli," Arthur said. Vash's paycheck for his assignment was waiting for him on top of Arthur's desk and he picked it up and examined it. Suddenly his green eyes blazed with fury. "This is 50 euros less than usual!" he shouted, his hand tightening around his gun by default. Arthur's eyes flashed and Vash's hand dropped limply to his side again of it's own accord. "Tsk tsk, no need to be so upset. My sources tell me that you failed to leave immediately after killing them. Thus, the reason for the deduction." Arthur said calmly, and Vash's eye twitched. "Thank you, Mr. Kirkland." he said between clenched teeth as he turned to walk out. "Good day, Mr. Zwingli" Arthur said, and Vash was gone.

1 bus ride and 15 minutes of walking later, Vash was back in his own little cottage, far from any neighboring houses. He had stripped of his uniform and was now dressed normally. He wore a worn, cream-colored shirt with an old brown vest and brown trousers. Indeed, if anyone had seen him in his normal state they never would have guessed that he was an expert assassin. Vash opened his parcel and emptied it onto his bed. 5 euros, his crumpled paycheck, the silver pistol. He checked it's barrel. Fully loaded, with re-used pointed bullets. Vash put it on top of his nightstand.

Taking the 5 euros, he walked across the room and opened his tiny closet. Reaching up, he felt around until his fingers met glass, and he pulled out a large glass jar a quarter filled with various types of currency and coins. Upon opening the tightly screwed lid, he dropped in the 5 euros and put the jar back on the shelf on top of his closet. He didn't know exactly what he was saving the money for, maybe for a rainy day.

Ever since he had joined the HETA, he had had a feeling of unity, of belonging to something. It was the closest he had ever felt to having a family, although he had no friends and no one talked to him. Still, he thought to himself as he pulled out a chocolate bar that he every so often treated himself with and opened it, it's the best I've had so far.

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Vash was an orphan, with no relatives whatsoever, growing up in the mountains of Switzerland. Most of his childhood was spent by alone, teaching himself how to take down birds and the fruit from trees by rocks. One day, he had met a seemingly insane old man in the mountains, and that old man had taught him all that he knew about guns and shooting. Vash loved the sound that the gunshots made as they echoed into the mountains, and those times when he was shooting was the only times he had ever had fun. The old man was not the equivalent to a father at all, for he was at times violent and wildly hot-tempered. He never showed affection unless Vash took down a wild animal with one bullet. Eventually, when Vash was 13 years old he climbed down to the village and began to sell off his prey, and win bets at sharpshooting. Vash soon had plenty of money, and he bought a small cottage by the mountains near a lake. The old man died, but the knowledge stayed with Vash. For the next 2 years his life was peaceful and good, and spent in solitude.

Then out of the blue, one day someone knocked on Vash's door. When Vash opened it he was greeted by a somewhat short Japanese man who introduced himself as Kiku Honda, CEO of HETA. Kiku explained that HETA, or the House of Extraordinary Talented Assassins, was a group of assassins who worked for the government and killed the people who 'got in the way'. HETA was constantly searching for new arrivals who were prepared to leave everything behind and help the government with their extraordinary gifts and talent in assassination. Vash refused the offer at first, being perfectly content with his life. But when Kiku explained that HETA payed for living expenses, food, clothing, materials and other wants and needs, Vash began to think it over more carefully. All they wanted was his talent in sharpshooting, and everything would be free. After insuring that his house would be protected and held to his name, Vash and Kiku were in a plane heading to Russia.

Kiku walked Vash to a large building, describing that his boss, Arthur Kirkland, would be in charge of him and his assignments. Everyone in HETA was an assassin, each with special talents, even if they did not look like it at first. When Vash and Kiku approached Arthur's office, they could hear two people shouting at each other. One with a distinct British accent, and one American. The door banged open and a man with dirty blonde hair and glasses stormed out. Kiku and Vash walked inside the office, but before they could make another step a fountain pen embedded itself in between their heads. "Knock" a venomous voice said, and Kiku knocked politely 3 times on the door. A short blonde British man wearing a black suit and tie fell back in his chair with a huff. The fountain pen flew from the door back into his hand...about 10 feet away. "You may enter. My apologies for the git." he added, still quite red in the face. Suddenly he noticed Vash standing next to Kiku. "Ah, you have brought a new arrival!" he stood up, extending his hand. "Arthur Kirkland, but please call me Mr. Kirkland." Vash took his hand and shook it. "Vash Zwingli," he said. Arthur sat back down with a huff. "Vash…Zwingli…" he grabbed a large file and started to sort through the papers. "Z….Zwingli…ah, here you are!" he said, apparently finding his file. He read it silently to himself, leaving Kiku and Vash in expectant silence. After a short while Arthur closed the file. "So, Mr. Zwingli, do you have any troubles with shooting people?" Vash shook his head. He always purposely shot and missed unsuspecting thieves who tried to break into his home. "It appears you still need some light training, not for your skills, of course, but for your tolerance." Vash nodded, knowing that to kill a human being you had to be prepared to kill it, not to chicken out and purposely miss like he always did. "Well then, your living arrangements can be all sorted out later. Mr. Honda would you please show Mr. Zwingli to the gun room?" Vash's eyes lit up. He had only carried one rifle, strapped to his back, but it was old and he always had to reuse the bullets. "Yes, sir. Good-bye, Mr. Kirkland." Kiku said, bowing, and Vash followed him out of the door.

That was when it all had started for him...

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**By this time Vash's chocolate has already melted in his hand.**

**A flash of Vash's past for everyone...I can just totally imagine Arthur being an assasin! =*o*=**

**There will be more people revealed to be assassins of HETA~  
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**Next chapter will be about Lilli, and we'll find out who was the man that jumped from the balcony! :D  
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**I hope you enjoyed it, and please review!  
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	2. Lilli

**Hi!**

**This chapter is about what happened to Lilli! :D  
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**Translations at the bottom...  
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**Disclaimer: I still don't own Hetalia -.-"**

**Thanks for reading, please review!  
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~Francis's POV~

_"Alouette, __gentille Alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai…" _I sang softly to myself as I stirred the freshly made soon-to-be whipped cream in my large mixing bowl. My cousin, Matthew, was going to come visit very soon, once he got off from work, and I'm going to make him some of my special crepes as a surprise! Oh, I couldn't wait to see the adorable look on his face, when he sees me, and my beautiful crepes, maybe he'll even ask to lick the bowl just like he used to do… "Ohnohnohnonhn~" I laughed to myself as I wiped my hands on my frilled apron. My phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket, and I picked it up to check the caller ID. A very close-up picture of Allistor, drunk and smoking a cigar while flipping off the camera greeted me, and I smiled and answered it. "_Bonjour, mon ami, comment es-tu_?" I said cheerfully. "Francis." Allistor said in a low, gravelly voice. I sobered up immediately. Allistor almost never called me anything but Francy-Pants or Frenchy. If he calls me by my real name that usually meant that something terrible was about to happen, or has already happened. "A-Allistor, are you alright?" I replied shakily. "Francis," he said again, and I shivered. "You need to come over right now." "B-But you're in Italy!" I said, but he had already hung up. I sighed, packing the phone into my pocket and taking off my apron. I looked longingly at the bowl of whipped cream and scribbled a quick note to Matthew saying that I would be back in a few hours. Allistor almost never asked for anything, and as his best friend I wasn't going to let even my crepes get in the way of such an emergency.

2 hours later, as it was starting to rain, I knocked on the majestic doors of my friend's beautiful waterfront home. The door swung open at my touch, and I slowly crept in. I opened my eyes wide at the scene that met me. Everything, the tables, chairs, almost all of his furniture, even his antique Scottish cabinets were gone, leaving pale spaces along the walls and floors. _Why would Allistor need money so much that he even sold his favorite furniture?_ I thought as I crept from room to room slowly, finding no one. Thunder boomed inconsistently outside, and I marveled somewhere inside myself of how nicely that set the mood of the creepily deserted home. As I was walking down his hall Allistor suddenly sprang out of no where. "_Mon ami!_ Thank goodness, I was so worrie-_mon Dieu_!" I cried at first in relief and then in horror. His face was ashen white, his startling red hair mussed and falling out, his normally lively green eyes as wide as a wild animals. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a bedroom with a large wall mural that I recognized as his daughter's. He grabbed my shoulders and sat us both down onto the bed. "Francis, I need you to do me a favor." he said in the same gravelly voice as he had on the phone, but with a note of desperation noticeably in it also. "Anything, _mon ami, _as long as it is reasonable…" I trailed off confusedly. "Take Lilli," he said.

I jumped up in alarm. "Lilli! Your daughter!? Why on Earth-" I cried but he covered my mouth with his hand to silence me, motioning for me to keep my voice low. "Why…?" I whispered, staring at him in alarm and confusion. "Just please, Francis! Please promise me you'll take her!" he whispered frantically to me in alarm. Allistor never said please. I nodded, and suddenly I heard a loud boom of the door being kicked open.

"Shit!" Allistor hissed, and he again grabbed my hand and we ran out of the room, downstairs, and onto the balcony outside. It was raining so hard now that we were both drenched in a second. Allistor ran to his petite wife, who was standing there outside. They seemed to argue for a moment, then Allistor's face looked defeated and nodded. "Allistor, what's going on?" I asked. Allistor turned to me. Quickly, he whispered "They're coming for me, Francis. Lilli is in the black car 6 blocks from here. She has all of her things. I need you to take her, and I need you to get her out of here. I promise I'll never ask you for anything again! Hurry!" I glanced up and saw an unknown man's face in the window above the balcony. I looked at Allistor. "You can count on me." He grinned, looking like himself again just for a second. "Thanks, Frenchy." The man jumped out of the window, and in that split second I squeezed my friend's shoulder one last time and jumped from his balcony and into the swollen waterways below. Just before I was engulfed by the white waters, I heard Allistor's pleading cries, and then a gunshot.

~Lilli's POV~

I sat in the backseat of my Dad's old car. My suitcases, filled with practically my life, surrounded me. I was still enormously confused. Why did Dad tell me to wait in the car? Where's Mom? Dad said that she'd be coming with me…where am I going? All that I could hear from Mom and Dad's conversations when they don't know I'm listening was that Dad needed money really, really bad…and he didn't have a lot…something about someone was going to come for him…

I waited in quiet impatience. I had braided and re-braided my hair at least 7 times now. Dad had told me not to get out of the car no matter what, but I have to go see if something bad's happened. For some reason I had a sinking feeling…I opened the door, but before I could step out of the car my door suddenly closed again. I looked out of my window in alarm and saw Uncle Francis, my Dad's best friend, soaked and trying his best to smile normally. He climbed in the driver's seat. "U-Um, Uncle Francis, where is my Mom and Dad?" I asked. Uncle Francis stiffened in his seat, then all of a sudden started sobbing uncontrollably. I was used to his emotional outbursts, but in this situation…I shakily handed him my pink handkerchief, which he promptly used to dry his dripping wet hair. "U-Uncle-" "Your parents…" Uncle Francis started to say, but broke down again into my handkerchief. I started shaking. I laid my trembling hand on his shoulder. "Your parents are d-d-dead…" he sobbed.

I felt as if lightning had shot me. I shakily put my hand back into my lap. My parents…they couldn't be…dead? I pictured my mother, sweet and careful, always being able to handle my Dad's occasional violent outbursts, always knowing exactly what to say to calm him down. I pictured my Dad, goofing around and joking with his friends, telling me stories with his cigar between his teeth, his green eyes afire with life. They couldn't be…there's no way…but one look at my Uncle Francis, broken like this, told me that it was true. I would've also cried, but I knew that just would've made things worse. One of us had to be strong here, and it was a bit too late for that for Uncle. So we sat in stunned silence for 10 minutes, broken only by the sounds of Uncle Francis's quiet sobbing. Soon then he calmed down a bit, his eyes rimmed in red. "H-He told me…to take you away, Lilli." I looked at him in surprise. I was about to ask why, but held my tongue. I didn't think I was ready to hear the details of their death yet. For all I knew, I could've been dead too.

He started the car. "Where are we going, Uncle?" I asked softly, conscious of his tender emotional state. He smiled at me through the rearview mirror. "France," he said, driving away from my home, my past, my life. "My house, in Paris."

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~back to third person~

Francis opened the door of his tiny apartment for Lilli, who struggled with her suitcases. "_Bienvenue chez moi!" _he pronounced. Lilli looked at him blankly. "Welcome to my home," he said with a smile. "Francis? Are you back?" a soft voice from another room called, and Lilli heard footsteps approaching as a man who looked kind of like Francis, but with glasses and a strange curl, entered the room. His eyes landed on Lilli, who stared back in surprise at his violet eyes. "She's...um...a bit young, Francis...honestly..." he said awkwardly, and Francis blushed indignantly as he realized what his darling Matthew was trying to say. "_Non, Matthieu, _this is Lilli. She'll be...staying with us from now on. Think of her as your sœur." he said. "Oh!" Matthew said, and shyly put his hand in front of Lilli. 'Um, it's very nice to meet you, Lilli, I'm Matthew Williams." he said, and Lilli shook his hand. "I'm...Lilli...Bonnefoy."

Matthew, gentleman as he is, insisted to carry her suitcases to his old room, which would now be her room. Lilli numbly went from room to room, exploring Francis's surprisingly large apartment. She was admiring his sculptures and poetry, although not understanding some of the words because they were in French, when a sugary, soft, sweet scent entered the room. She turned around and saw Francis at the door, wearing a long frilled apron decorated with roses. It was surprisingly fitting on him. "Lilli, I have just made some delightful crepes, if you would like to try some they are in the living room." he said with a smile. Lilli nodded, although she had never had crepes before, but was eager to try the source of that wonderful smell. She followed Francis to the living room, where a large tray of triangular-like pastries lay on a table, filled with chocolate, strawberries, and whipped cream and coated with powdered sugar. She looked at Francis in surprise of how professional the crepes looked. Francis smiled proudly, placing his hands on his hips. "I own a bakery downtown," he explained. Lilli took a crepe, feeling almost guilty for ruining the perfection of it, then bit into it. Her eyes shot open. Francis studied her reaction smugly as she savored the rest of the crepe, getting a little bit of whipped cream on the corner of her mouth. Francis giggled to himself as he wiped it clean, and Lilli noticed it was the same pink handkerchief she had given him. She didn't ask for it back, though, he seemed to like it very much. Suddenly she noticed the almost-empty bowl of whipped cream sitting in the kitchen, waiting to be cleaned. The whipped cream was her favorite part, it really would be a shame to waste it..."Uncle Francis?" she asked. "Yes, _ma petite fleur_?" he noted fondly. "May I..." Lilli asked shyly, and Francis curiously tilted his head. "May I...erm...have the rest of that?" she said, and pointed to the whipped cream bowl. Francis gleamed, patting her head as he came back with the bowl and a napkin. Lilli smiled as she dipped her finger into the sweet, fluffy concoction. Maybe she could get used to this...

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**Hopefully I achieved to create some fluffyness right there :3**

**If you haven't noticed (or if I wrote it wrongly), Lilli's/Francis's pink handkerchief is the same one he used in episode 10 :D  
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**It's a bit hard to write Lilli's POV, so tell me if I make any mistakes and I'll try to change them!  
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**Allouette was one of my favorite songs to play on the piano, so I loved to put it in the story :D  
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**Translations:  
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**mon ami= my friend  
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**comment es-tu= how are you  
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**Mon Dieu= My God  
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**non= no  
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**ma petite fleur= my little flower :3  
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**sœur= sister  
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**I'll get into details about how Vash and Lilli meet next chapter!  
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